Order Versus Chaos
by Emma CS Me
Summary: Parker envies Veronica. Veronica envies Parker. Twoshot.
1. Dadaism

**DADAISM**

Parker envies Veronica.

If she'd start like that, you'd expect it's about Logan, the shared boyfriend – though it hurts and she's never quite going to measure up, that's not it. Parker's issue with Veronica is the exact same as her issue with every single other person; it's all the fault of Mercer fucking Hayes. And obviously, some other boy Veronica's never bothered identifying.

They don't talk about it. Veronica seems to be choosing repression; Mac, for whatever reason, clearly doesn't know. Veronica blew Parker of the only time she tried to talk to Veronica about it, to find some solidarity beyond "this happened and it sucks." Parker hates the fact that Veronica gets that option, where she gets to choose to lie to the whole world because they didn't _shave her fucking head_ so everyone knew.

With her, people always seem to be staring. Whenever anyone meets her they recognize the name; they think a few seconds and think: _Wait, isn't that the girl who got..._ _Oh._ It's now what defines her and she just knows it hurts them when she acts normal; along with her body, her hair, Mercer stole her identity as well, and it all stings so bad.

Logan knows about Veronica; it had come up once. They were awkward and avoided that topic for the rest of the night; Parker was half tempted to ask Logan questions, which he may or may not know the answer to. _How? Who? Why won't she talk about it?_

She wonders if Logan feels guilty, for having been Mercer's friend. He confessed to her once, offering penance: _I told Veronica Mercer couldn't possibly have been the rapist. I thought he was in Mexico with me the time of Nancy's rape. I'm sorry._ And she had nodded, and accepted the apology without a second thought, because that was what Parker Lee did. Veronica wouldn't, she knew that – Veronica was the hardened one made of steel; she'd be enraged if she was Parker and Parker was her (God how Parker wants that). Then again, Veronica was always the more rational, cool-headed one of the two victims, so wouldn't she be the one to accept Logan couldn't have known? Maybe Parker's projecting, she's not sure.

She doesn't know if Veronica ever figured out who did it, or _why_. Sometimes she sees an odd look in her friend's eyes when she looks at Mac, but she's not sure what that means. Parker never truly figured out why Mercer did it either, and never particularly cared to, but when the press keeps going _on and on and on_ about the trial; trying to analyze the villain of the year and figure out how he works, they make it hard for her to forget.

She's heard about the last one, villain of last year – a deranged boy, abused and desperate to hide the fact. Mac had told her little details about her dead ex-boyfriend, but it had taken some reading until she realized they were the same person. That had explained a lot about Mac. She wondered if it would happen again, if her monster would also have something lurking in the shadows, strangling him. She hoped not, a lot for herself and a little for him.

She isn't a person, not anymore. People don't think she's a person; even Mac, Veronica, Logan, _it_ flickers behind their eyes every time she adjusts her wig a little. Veronica hadn't head to deal with that; the stubble on her head to be contained and concealed, a constant reminder of what happened. Veronica gets to forget and just _live_, while Parker gets left in the dust. They don't notice that she was – is – more than just a body for Mercer and how private the whole thing (which happens to be a public spectacle, yay!) is – that it was HER hair he shaved off and gave to his minion, that it was HER vagina he moved his penis in until he came. It wasn't Dawn's, or Stacy's, or Nancy's, or Veronica's – it was _hers._

It's not a lie, when she says she's okay – when she tells her therapist she's moving on. That's what's best, isn't it? To return, to be the original Parker, to be a person again? Had Veronica chosen that? Parker doesn't think so, as even if she didn't know why Veronica was so hardened and cynical on their first meeting, she knew _something_ happened. At the time she chalked it up to Lilly Kane, and that was still probably a factor. She thought of what Veronica told her about her life, coupled with the date she gave for the rape – had she been naive, to go a party where she knew everyone hated her? Was she naive, to go to the Pi Sig party during Rush Week when she _knew_ that frat had been connected with the rapes?

Veronica hadn't asked these questions; Veronica had stood alone. Veronica hadn't spent months and months comparing herself to other raped girls, Veronica hadn't had anyone tell her what happened to them. Veronica had options and damage control, and people saw _something else_ when they looked at Veronica. The sperm that anonymous bastard had pumped into her was hidden, buried under a world-weary shell. Sometimes Parker thinks that would have been her, if not for how she lost her hair – would that, honestly, be worse? The way people talk, you'd think so, but Veronica seems to hurt less under a hard surface. Parker never stops hurting; 'okay' is only truth comparatively.

Veronica can't trust people, she doesn't _have_ to trust people. She watches carefully and doesn't party, she doesn't have to remember the fact she's a fucking serial number. Veronica is cynical and doesn't forget the monsters in the dark; she's never going to be naive enough to walk back into the wild party and take a drink. Parker might be, and it scares her.

But Veronica is no longer that girl.


	2. Minimalism

**MINIMALISM**

Veronica envies Parker.

She doesn't tell anyone that, mostly because she doesn't want anyone to think she's insane, or the biggest bitch in human history. Then again, most people would never guess the why – it always catches her off-guard, how few people actually know; Logan, Parker, Wallace... the list ends – they'd probably say it's about Logan. She's sure, with an ego like his, he'd like that, but that's not it. She tries not to think about it whenever she can, especially not in comparison to someone else, not to Parker. She's gotten bad at that, however.

She tried not to think about it, during the case. She had dealt with what Cassidy did to her three or so years ago, even if she didn't know it was him at the time. No reason to think about it now. Every reason to protect the girls on campus, the ones like Parker, from this monster – who she still didn't know who he was. But she doesn't have to think about Cassidy again, doesn't have to avoid Mac's eyes.

Sometimes she thinks about Mercer and the day she caught him. He was a monster. Or was he? When she thinks of that night on the roof (which never gets out of her head, not matter how hard she tries) she becomes less certain. You'd see the way Cassidy acted there – laughing, taunting, killing – and call him a monster. Veronica always has to remember that wasn't it. After all, who did he kill?

Maybe Mercer was the same, she doesn't know. She doesn't want to know. She tries not to entertain morbid thoughts; tries not think: _If we looked at Mercer for a little longer_, broken little boys dancing in her head. She doesn't want that, she doesn't want Mercer to have an excuse – she wants to demonize him, to point at him for Parker and all the others, to say: _There! That's your bad guy! It's all his fault!_

She could have avoided this, she knows it. If she had just been smarter, not believed the lie, she could have caught Cassidy without the tragic backstory. Then he would laugh and she would cry, and he would never, ever tell her how well he _knew_ what he did to her. Then she would work her patented Veronica magic and make him _pay_, without a second thought to what might have happened to him. Then, of course, the bus wouldn't crash, and maybe Peter and Marcos would have made Woody pay earlier and less fatally (although she doesn't really care he died), and they wouldn't have brought up Cassidy, in search of their credibility. If only she could have been smarter.

_Meg_, her mind prods at her and it stings. She expected to miss her, like she did with Lilly – what kind of luck did she have, two of her three best girlfriends ever, murdered? - but she also expected, like with Lilly, that the pain would dull over time. Well, at least it had changed somewhat. The grief slowly went away, but the guilt stayed with her, munching on the bits of her brain in the back. She _could_ have saved her – she could also have saved her other best girlfriend, saving her from loving not-quite-a-monster.

Veronica's read about thinks like this, self-blame. Rationalizing the process of the rape, making it _your fault_ meaning you never lost control of the situation. But Veronica doesn't blame herself for the rape – except on her worst days, when she thinks she was an idiot to go to that party – she blames herself for the aftermath. The devastation. The fact she can't just _tell_ one of her best friends the truth for fear of breaking her, the fact one of her best friends died probably thinking they _weren't_ friends.

She frowns. _Never lost control._ Was that what Cassidy did? Did he, in his desperate, constant need to reclaim his power, turn it all into his fault in his head? Is that why he needed so badly to cover it up, to conceal his "crime"? Where did she fit in, in that scenario (her best guess is "nowhere" but that makes her feel helpless, like she hates)? For that matter, where did Peter and Marcos? Was what happened to them meant to be their fault too, did that make them okay to kill?

She is dreading the trial, which is stupid, because she's not the one who has to go on that stand and relive the most private, personal ordeal of her life. Parker gets to do that, and maybe Veronica envies the thought that Parker can dread that trial _with good reason; _that everyone would understand if she didn't want to go, have to testify – _she_ would understand. They're both going to do it, because they are not letting Mercer Hayes get away with what he did (and she never managed to make Cassidy pay; sometimes she wishes she had just shot the gun), but she just _doesn't want to_. She doesn't want to go on the stand and conspicuously not tell them what happened to her.

It always frightens her, how secretive she is about it. But she can't tell. There are people; people with a hand in it, or the bus crash, who would have to feel guilty – would Dick say he didn't know, that he never expected Cassidy to actually do it? Would Lamb finally have felt bad for ignoring her, if he hadn't had his skull bashed in with a baseball bat?

_Baseball_. She doesn't watch it anymore, although her father tells her she can't blame a game for the actions of two people. She never liked baseball that much, so it's not exactly hard to give it up. She remembers that day, she had been with Duncan (God she misses him sometimes, wishes she could see the new Lilly). Dick saw Gia and immediately wanted to fuck her (that chills her to the bone; had Cassidy known who she was from that first moment? And seen what his brother wanted from her?). Cassidy was _making jokes_ on that field trip, while coldly plotting to kill half of them – did he even care, what he was going to do?

She never quite manages to get these thoughts to stop, to erase all the fucking _pity_ for her rapist. Parker didn't have to deal with this. Mercer was a monster, it was that simple. Parker didn't have to lie to Mac. Parker hadn't wished like hell Dick would be guilty of the rapes, so she could clear up that loose end in her story. Parker hadn't lied awake at night, trying to sort out her first, second, third first times. Parker hadn't been the one to comfort Logan, telling him it wasn't his fault Cassidy jumped, all the while wondering; _Was it mine? If I wasn't there, could you have said something?_ Parker hadn't, on her darkest days, gone further back and wondered if someone "showed" the young Woodrow how best to "save" broken little boys.

Parker doesn't have to judge and second guess and never quite be confident in the solutions to her mysteries. Parker can just go on, the way rape victims are meant to go on. She can recover and get her life back; boys and clothes and _America's Next Top Model_, the things that other Veronica once believed in. But the naive girl Veronica once was is dead.

But Parker is still that girl.


End file.
